The success of failing

After a long time I'm writing again but about what? I'm not sure. So I'll start with the only thing that I'm sure about.

I am lost.

I was awarded a degree in journalism and I thought I would be satisfied: I was wrong. In the end I was so disgusted that I didn't see the point in staying in Spain to even try to get a job. I saw my colleagues - very talented people - being taken advantage of by their bosses and at the end of the day they received no thanks (we can discuss getting paid €200/400 month for a junior position in Spain in another post). So I decided as soon as I finished my degree, I would pack my stuff and move to Derry, Northern Ireland.

I found an internship in a language school and I enjoyed what was the best summer of my life. I'm pretty sure that I've never been so happy. Suddenly, you are in another country, speaking a different language and you have the opportunity to meet amazing people. You see, despite language, culture, different personalities and no matter how far your countries are apart, you'll always find a link. A connection. You will travel, albeit investing using up all your savings for this very purpose. You will eat - Spanish cuisine is renowned (alongside many other nations, I might add). You will also converse like never before in a language that is not your mother tongue.

But one day it is over. Everyone returns to their own countries. There are tears and promises to meet again one day, in a land halfway between.

It's then and there that you realise that something inside you has changed. Your mind speaks two languages and you have acquired cultural customs from your host country. Just because they fit better with your personality. Also, you relativise troubles and you are more thankful for the ones you love. Enjoying the present because everyday is a new adventure.

So I am lost, even though it looks like I've found myself. I am lost because I don't recognise my country as MY country. Because when I'm in Spain, I miss Ireland and the opposite. It doesn't matter where I am, I will always leave people and places behind. My home is not my home anymore. I measure the distance between countries in plane tickets. You get used to people entering and exiting your life and you enter and exit theirs. Replacing posters with pictures of your family and friends. There is a part of you who feels guilty for enjoying being where you are and not back home.

I think the toughest part is to understand  - and getting people around you to understand - that it's not going away, it's not temporary. All this is who you are now and it's not possible to come back to being what you were. Fortunately, there are people who understand it. There are others who don't and thats OK.

I have to realise that I don't need to fight anymore. No one else has to understand it, nor do I have to justify myself. I'm happy with the life that I've chosen even with all its complications. I refuse to burden myself with the onus of advancing my career. I want to enjoy my twenties working in whatever gives me enough money to travel, have experiences, meet new people and be independent. Settling down is not for me - at least for now. Worrying about social standing is just too much. I want to lose the fear of failing to live up to others expectations and whatever else is deemed the social norm. We need to grasp that it's ok if you don't want to fulfill with the "good job + house + perfect family" mantra as the only way to success.

I will be happy if I can look back and think about all that I have lived, not what I could have lived